


Letting Go

by bunyoul



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: AU setting, Angst, do phonecalls with dead people count as supernatural, hansol gets mentioned a bit too, lots of platonic soonhao, mild supernatural elements, this is just sad tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 20:47:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11215992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunyoul/pseuds/bunyoul
Summary: The line for reaching beloved onesalternatively; in which Minghao runs away from responsibilities and doesn't want to let go





	Letting Go

**Author's Note:**

> this is the product of exam stress, 3 weeks of writing and watching soonyoung and minghao's al1 trailers at 3am

_ The line for reaching beloved ones _

 

 

Minghao waited outside of the park gates for exactly thirty minutes before he accepted the fact that the probability that he had been stood up far outweighed the chance that Junhui was simply running late. He considered whether he should feel offended, but couldn’t really bring himself to care enough for that, so settled on feeling mildly inconvenienced.

It’s not like Minghao had to put much effort in- he didn’t dress up, he didn’t fix his hair especially, and no plans had been made except that he would meet Junhui, and the two would find somewhere to get lunch together. Just a simple outing, not much different to the usual lunch dates they would go on, except this time it was a  _ date _ date, rather than just meeting up to scout out cheap cafes and talk shit about their mutual friends. 

He might have been a little more annoyed if he had made specific plans, but due to the circumstances, he felt more or less unfazed- a little disappointed, sure, but not enough to feel genuinely sad. He gave up on waiting, and decided to go and buy some food for the next few days, just so the outing wasn’t a complete waste of time.

 

Although he had hoped to have been heading home with an armful of Junhui, an armful of food did come pretty close to being just as good.  

 

A text from Hansol flashed up on Minghao’s home screen as he sat at the back of the bus on his way home, feet propped up on the seat next to him; much to the distaste of the elderly couple who sat a few seats away from him.

 

_ [14:37] Memesol: hows your date going ;^) _

 

_ [14:38] Minghow: the only thing im having a date with today is the instant ramen i just bought _

 

_ [14:38] Minghow: junhui didnt show up lmao _

 

There was a pause of a few minutes before Hansol responded.

 

_ [14:41] Memesol: ill punch him in the face if you want me to _

 

_ [14:42] Minghow: if i wanted to punch him id be able to do it myself _

 

_ [14:42] Minghow: tru _

After the bus reached his stop, Minghao balanced the bag of food in one hand and his phone in the other, walking the rest of the way back to his apartment. He turned the music he was listening to up louder to prevent himself from wondering what it would be like to walk the same way holding Junhui’s hand rather than a plastic bag. 

 

Probably not much different. 

 

A quick glance around the apartment as he entered it told Minghao that Soonyoung was still out; most likely at the dance studio working on a new choreography. Knowing how the other dancer could throw himself into his work, Minghao hazarded a guess that he wouldn’t be back for at least another few hours.

 

Depositing the groceries on the kitchen table, Minghao walked towards his room, needing to charge his phone, however his attention was caught by a small slip of paper lying on the desk in the corner of the room, surrounded by books and pens that no longer contained enough ink to write properly. 

 

Minghao  _ knew _ what it was. He tried to convince himself that it wasn’t; wanted nothing more than to brush it down the back of the desk and pretend he hadn’t seen it, but denying it was impossible- everyone knew what the numbers meant.  

 

He didn’t know how he was supposed to react- Minghao had never received a number himself, and the only time he had seen a person get one was when he sat beside Soonyoung as he picked up the phone to the news of an unfortunate accident, and fished into his pocket to find a slip of paper containing a number and the name ‘ _ Jihoon _ ’ in small, neat writing.

 

Everyone knew about the numbers- it was hard not to, when every TV drama seemed to revolve around a person too afraid to call and talk to their deceased loved ones, and when there were constant advertisements reminding people of the various counselling services available to people to support them when they made their final phonecall to family, friends and partners before they were gone for good. 

 

Now Minghao knew why it was recommended to have someone else to read out the name on the paper; the temptation to not open it and simply remain in blissful ignorance was almost overwhelming. There was no point in denying that his hands were shaking as he sat down, and unfolded the paper.

 

_ Wen Junhui _

_ 0071-223-144 _

 

Of course. 

 

Minghao slowly lowered the paper back down onto the desk, staring at it blankly. He wasn’t sure how to feel; unsure whether the correct response should be anger, sadness or numbness. He settled for all three, then realised that was too much of a headache, and chose to remember things instead of feeling.

 

Seeing the numbers written out below Junhui’s name reminded Minghao of how they first met: when Junhui opened the door of the dance studio onto Minghao’s face, laughed at him for a full minute, then grabbed Minghao’s arm and scribbled his phone number and name in messy handwriting all the way up it, along with a promise to buy him dinner. Minghao didn’t take up the offer- it took him at least a week before he was able to even look at Junhui without wanting to punch him in the jaw, never mind consider holding a conversation longer than asking him to pass a water bottle over after practice. Minghao did eventually decide to message him, but refused the offer of dinner. 

 

Before Minghao had really had a chance to figure out what was going on, Junhui had managed to incorporate himself perfectly into his already too large circle of friends, fitting in like he’d been there from the beginning. It was hard for Minghao to keep hating Junhui when his friends liked him so much. For months, Junhui had refused to give up on his previous promise to treat Minghao to dinner. Each time they met, he would shamelessly greet him with a ‘ _ so do you want to date me yet?’,  _ and Minghao would routinely decline, then the two would carry on with their day as normal. 

 

There were times when he almost wanted to take up the offer- times when Junhui would show up at his apartment at 4am with movies and popcorn after hearing the slightest mention from Minghao that he was feeling sad, times when Junhui would throw an arm around his shoulder and laugh at his jokes no matter how unfunny they were, times when Junhui would finish dancing, push his hair backwards out of his eyes and steal Minghao’s breath away. 

 

When Minghao did accept his offer of a date, Junhui had frozen and confessed that he’d never actually planned what he would do if his attempts paid off, fully expecting Minghao to turn him down for the rest of his life. 

 

Minghao felt frustrated that he had immediately assumed that Junhui had stood him up. 

 

He still didn’t know whether to cry or not- he didn’t  _ want _ to because he knew that once he started, he wouldn’t be able to stop, so instead, he rested his head against the table and closed his eyes. The cold smoothness of the paper pressing against his cheek felt like it was burning.

 

Maybe he fell asleep, maybe he didn’t- either way, he grew to ignore the passing of time until the door to the apartment opened and closed quietly, the gentle thud of a bag hitting the floor and shoes being taken off indicating that Soonyoung was back from the dance studio. 

 

“Did you get yours?” Minghao lifted his head off the table to look at Soonyoung. The other dancer held a slip of paper identical to the one on the desk, and the slight redness to his eyes indicated that he had been crying beforehand. Minghao nodded, gesturing to the surface of the desk, where Junhui’s name and number stared back at him. 

 

“It was there when I got back home.” Soonyoung had moved into the kitchen area and had busied himself with putting away the food that Minghao had left forgotten on the table.

 

“It must have been a shock for you,” Soonyoung’s voice was quiet and sympathetic, all of his usual cheer stored away. “Wonwoo messaged me before I got mine, so it wasn’t as much of a surprise for me.” He paused, the shakiness in his voice indicating that he was close to crying again. “It didn’t make it any easier to accept though.”

 

“How did Junhui even-” Minghao asked cautiously, breaking off his sentence before he could finish it.

 

“He got hit by a car outside of his apartment. Wonwoo told me he tried to cross the road and a car hit him and kept going before anyone could note down its license plate or anything.” if Minghao hadn’t felt angry beforehand, he was now. “Wonwoo said he died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital.” 

 

The silence that fell upon the room was thick and heavy- Soonyoung finished tidying away the food and sat down on the couch, picking up the TV remote but not actually turning it on, and Minghao let his head fall back onto the surface of the desk. 

 

“I thought he stood me up.” Minghao broke the silence after a while. 

 

“You know he wouldn’t have done that.” Soonyoung’s response was immediate. “Showing up an hour late, I wouldn’t put that past Junhui, but he would never just not turn up without an explanation.” He didn’t turn around, but Minghao could tell Soonyoung was smiling slightly. “Especially not for you. He was panicking so much about the date with you, you know? He called me at 3am to ask me what your favourite type of flower is.” 

 

“He always used to act like he was so smooth and romantic, but when it came down to it he was just a flustered mess.” Minghao laughed to himself, reminiscence taking away some of the lingering sadness. “You should have seen him when I agreed to go on a date with him- I asked him what he wanted to do and he told me he’d never actually thought of what to do past asking me to date him on a daily basis.” 

 

“You should call him now, you know.” Soonyoung shattered the haze of memories that Minghao had let himself become immersed in. 

 

Minghao hesitated, looking down at the slip of paper containing Junhui’s number. He was well aware of the fact that he should make the phone call- waiting to do it always caused more problems than it solved, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Perhaps it was because he was worried he wouldn’t know what to say, or perhaps it was simply him being selfish and wanting to save the call for later- either way, Minghao knew he didn’t want to do it. 

 

“I’ll do it later.” 

 

“You shouldn’t wait to do it.” Soonyoung chided him. 

 

“You still haven’t called Jihoon yet.” Minghao tried to shift the focus of the conversation away from himself and immediately worried that he had stepped over the line. 

 

“That’s-” The hesitation in Soonyoung’s voice was apparent. “That’s a different situation.” 

 

“I’ll do it when I’m ready to.” A sigh escaped Minghao as he hauled himself out of the desk chair, taking the number with him. “I’m going to sleep- I have a lot of stuff to think about.” 

 

Soonyoung nodded from where he was sitting on the couch, staring towards where his phone sat on the table, Junhui’s number in one hand, and what Minghao assumed was Jihoon’s in the other, pulled out of his pocket and sitting there in a crumpled mess. Minghao closed the door behind him and wondered if Soonyoung would still be in the same position the next morning. 

 

Sleep came forgivingly fast to Minghao. He managed to make it halfway through his breakfast the following morning before a text from Hansol asking if he was managing okay caused him to remember the events of the previous day, heaviness settling on his bones. 

 

He decided that dancing would help him forget things, at least temporarily. 

 

The dance studio was deserted aside from the receptionist at the front desk when Minghao arrived. Everyone else had evidently decided that 7am on a Sunday morning was an unfavourable time to be awake, so he had a full range of choice over which studio he wanted to use.

 

Minghao pointedly avoided studio 2- the one he most frequently danced in- to escape having to be reminded of the time only a few days ago when Junhui and himself camped out in the studio well past its closing time with a bag full of snacks, a laptop and a quest to find the cheesiest, most plot-hole filled drama they possibly could. Happy memories that quickly turned sour under the knowledge that Minghao would never experience them again.

 

Studio 1 was a little smaller, and the floor a little more uneven, but it held no such memories. 

 

He set about dancing with no plan, letting music play through the studio and allowing himself to move mindlessly, losing himself quickly in the way he could feel his body bend pliantly to the tempo of the music. 

 

“Mind if I join in?” A voice by the door of the studio brought Minghao back to existence, and he steadied himself, breathing heavily and nodding as he turned to face Chan, one of the younger regulars at the studio. 

 

“As long as you don’t mind being around angsty freestyling, then go ahead.” Minghao goes back to his dancing, throwing himself back into the music, but not as fully as he had beforehand. He could see Chan stretching in his peripheral vision, loosening up his muscles before he joined Minghao in dancing along to the music. 

 

Neither of them were in sync, and anyone looking into the studio would likely have commented on sloppiness or uncoordination, but it worked to get their emotions out, so the two of them kept going.  

 

They stopped for a break after three songs had past, Chan stepping forwards to turn off the music and throw Minghao a water bottle as they both sat down and rested their heads against the wall of the studio. Silence fell between them at first, broken only by the sounds of them trying to regain their breath. 

 

“I called Junhui last night.” Chan spoke after a while, and Minghao debated getting up and walking out of the studio door. “We talked about dance and he told me I could have his locker to put my bags in because he felt sorry for me having to crouch to use the lower down ones all the time.” 

 

“That’s nice of him.” Minghao wasn’t sure how to respond- the phone calls were usually a private matter, so hearing someone talk so casually about them wasn’t a common occurrence.

 

“Yeah, it would have been nice if he’d told me where he’d left the keys to the locker so I could actually use it.” Chan laughed quietly. “I’m not sure if he genuinely forgot to tell me, or if this is revenge for that one time we locked him in Studio 3 and turned all the lights off.”

 

Minghao smiled at the memory- how Chan and Soonyoung and himself had joined forces to lock Junhui in the smallest of the studios to get back at him for drinking all of the juice in the fridge, leaving him in the dark for half an hour before he agreed to respect the rules of sharing drinks. 

 

“He asked about you too.” Chan spoke again, and Minghao turned to look at him faster than he would like to admit. “He told me to ask you to call him as soon as possible.” 

 

Minghao hesitated, looking down at his hands.  _ There _ was the topic he had really hoped to avoid.

 

“If you’re scared to do it, don’t be. Letting go will make you feel much better than trying to avoid talking to him will.” Chan’s hand patted his shoulder. 

 

“You’re basically a child, stop trying to give me advice.” Minghao forced a smile, trying to hide the fact that he knew that Chan was right- the younger dancer always seemed to give meaningful advice; the sort of words that shouldn’t come from someone as young as him.

 

“You know I’m right, I can tell.” Chan saw right through his guise. “The longer you put it off, the more scared you’ll be of it.” The studio fell into silence again briefly, then Chan spoke up again. “Come on, let’s dance some more.” He spoke cheerily, as if the conversation they had just experienced never happened. 

 

“I think I’m going to head home actually.” Minghao felt as if the atmosphere in the studio was about to suffocate him. Picking up his bag from where he had left it in the corner of the room, he pulled his hoodie back on and headed outside, stopping to say goodbye to Chan as he left. 

 

Rain was pouring down from the sky by the time he left the studio, forming glassy puddles on the ground that reflected the thick grey clouds blanketing the sky. Minghao had to run to avoid being completely soaked, pulling his hood over his hair and weaving past people as the rain on the pavement kicked up spray behind him with each footfall. 

 

If he found himself checking more carefully than usual when crossing roads, he didn’t notice. 

 

Minghao reached the apartment in under ten minutes, but running did nothing to stop the rain from covering him completely, rolling in droplets down his face and clinging to his hair where his hood had fallen down as he ran. 

 

Soonyoung greeted him at the door with a towel in one hand and an umbrella in the other. 

 

“Do you need this?” He motioned towards the umbrella in his hand, grinning as Minghao reached forwards and snatched the towel off him instead, scrubbing at his hair with it in an attempt to stop water from rolling off it and into his eyes. 

 

“It’s a bit late for that now.” Minghao breathed a silent sigh of relief as he saw that Soonyoung didn’t seem to be angry with him, keeping up the same good-natured teasing that he usually did. 

 

“Go and change into some dry clothes- I’ll make you some coffee.” Soonyoung was already in the kitchen, busying himself around the kettle as Minghao headed to his room, pulling off his rain-soaked hoodie as he went. A quick glance at his phone as he pulled it out of his pocket revealed a string of messages from Hansol.

 

_ [8:46] Memesol: How are you doing ??  _

 

_ [8:47] Memesol: I called Junhui this morning _

 

_ [8:47] Memesol: He said he’s doing okay _

 

_ [8:47] Memesol: I thought you’d want to hear that _

 

_ [8:48] Memesol: He also asked me _

 

_ [8:48] Memesol: “is minghao planning on taking as long to call me as he did to agree to date me?” _

 

_ [8:49] Memesol: Junhui’s words, not mine _

 

_ [8:50] Memesol: You should call him you know _

 

_ [8:52] Memesol: He said he thinks he’s missing you more than you’re missing him _

 

Minghao didn’t respond to the messages, putting his phone back in his pocket before continuing to swap his wet clothes for dry ones and heading back into the living room, where Soonyoung was waiting with two cups of coffee and a slightly more subdued expression on his face.

 

“Is something wrong?” Minghao questioned as he took his coffee, sitting down on the couch next to Soonyoung. 

 

“Two things,” Soonyoung started. “First off, I called Junhui while you were out this morning.” the dancer’s gaze flickered over to where his mobile phone sat on the coffee table in front of him. “He said he isn’t in any pain, but he’s sad that he had to leave so soon.” 

 

Minghao had hoped to avoid any conversations about Junhui, but it had so far proven to be as impossible as avoiding Junhui himself when he was alive. He didn’t speak, and let Soonyoung continue.

 

“He also said that he misses you, and that he wants to hear your voice one last time.” as Soonyoung spoke, Minghao looked down towards the ground. Junhui’s number, folded up in his pocket, felt like it would start to burn him if it remained there any longer, so he pulled it out and held it in his hands instead, the fragile paper crumpling under his fingers. 

 

“Secondly,” Soonyoung drew in a shaky breath. “I’m going to call Jihoon. I’ve put it off for far too long, and talking to Junhui made me realise that letting people go is hard, but once it’s done, it’s like being able to breathe again.” Soonyoung’s words mirrored Chan’s from earlier. 

 

“I’m not going to tell you to call Junhui.” Soonyoung spoke again before Minghao could. “I have no place to talk about holding onto people. Just-” He paused, as if searching for the right words. “Just know that he’s waiting for you, whenever you decide to do it.” 

 

Soonyoung reached over and patted Minghao comfortingly on the shoulder, a small, subdued smile present on his face. 

 

“I’m going out to buy some of the stuff you didn’t pick up yesterday- do you need me to get you anything?” Minghao shook his head quietly, only half concentrating as Soonyoung pulled on a coat and left the apartment, leaving his umbrella propped up against the doorframe. 

 

Minghao sat in silence for a while longer, staring down at the paper in his hand, running his fingers over the folds and creases and brushing lightly over the numbers and the name that sat upon it. 

 

He let out a breath that he didn’t realise he was holding, then pulled his phone out of his pocket and typed in Junhui’s number. 

 

The phone rang once, twice, three times, and with each second that passed, Minghao came closer to just hanging up to escape having to make the phone call. However, after the fourth ring, Junhui’s voice played through the speaker; a quiet “Hello?”, and Minghao steeled his nerves, knowing it was too late to run from things now.

 

“I thought you stood me up.” There was a moment of silence from Junhui, followed by a short burst of amused laughter.

 

“You know, I was kind of hoping for tears, or at least  _ something _ a little more emotional.” The humour was clear in Junhui’s voice and Minghao refused to admit that hearing it caused his heart to hurt. 

 

“If you want tears, just wait for Seungkwan to call you.” Minghao rebuked, making the impulsive decision to walk out of the apartment and into the rain, not bothering to pull his hood up over his head as he made his way to the bus stop, hair already wet and flattened against his head.

 

“I already got plenty of tears from Soonyoung, don’t worry.” Minghao could picture Junhui’s smile as he spoke. “So, how have you been?” 

 

“I’ve been better.” Minghao spoke honestly, blinking against the droplets of rain. “I should probably ask how you are though- you’re the one that died.” It hurt Minghao to say it out loud, and he felt his voice waver slightly.

 

“Ah, yes. That.” Junhui sounded almost embarrassed. “I’m good, I guess? I think it still hasn’t quite sunk in that it happened yet. I’m not in any pain though, if that’s what you mean. It did hurt a lot when it happened, but it was only brief; I was unconscious the moment I hit the road.”

 

“That’s-” Minghao wasn’t sure how to respond, the surrealness of speaking to someone about their own death causing him to forget how to form words properly. “That’s good. I mean, It’s not good that you died, but it’s good that you aren’t hurt any more.” Minghao was glad for the arrival of the bus, as it cut off his rambling while he paid for a ticket and sat down in one of the empty seats at the back. 

 

“If it means anything to you, my last thoughts were ‘ _ oh no, I forgot to give Minghao his hoodie back _ .’” Junhui laughed, evidently trying to lighten the mood. 

 

“Well then, you’d better tell me where you left it so I can get it back myself.” This sort of conversation Minghao could manage. It almost allowed him to forget the situation, to let himself believe that he was on the way to meet Junhui at the park and was simply calling him to pass the time. 

 

They filled time with meaningless conversation for a while longer, until Minghao stepped off the bus and into the rain again, letting his feet carry him as he talked. The park didn’t take long to reach, and Minghao wandered through it for a while before finding a bench to sit down on, rain sliding down his face and his clothes clinging to him. A quick glance at his surroundings told him that he was the only person around.

 

“What was that?” The rumble of thunder across the sky was evidently audible to Junhui.

 

“Thunder.” Minghao tried to keep annoyance that the rain didn’t show any sign of stopping out of his voice. “I’m outside and it’s raining.”

 

“Why are you outside? You’ll get ill or something if it’s raining.” Junhui sounded concerned.

 

“I’m sitting in the park where I was supposed to be meeting you yesterday.” A sigh escaped Minghao. “I’m not sure why I’m here, honestly. It just felt right.” 

 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t make it yesterday.” An apologetic tone crept into Junhui’s voice. “I want to say that we could just do it some other day, but I guess that can’t really happen now, can it.” 

 

“Yeah.” The realisation that Junhui was dead hit Minghao again, having been displaced temporarily by casual conversation. “I guess not.”

 

“What would we have done- if I had made it?” Junhui asked. “Just out of curiosity.”

 

“I guess we would have found somewhere to get lunch? Probably just a cheap cafe, then we could have just sat around in the park for a while.” Minghao shrugged, even though he knew Junhui couldn’t see the gesture. “I don’t know, I didn’t really have much planned, sorry.” 

 

“And what about after that?” Junhui prompted him.

 

“We would have gone back to my apartment, maybe. Soonyoung was out yesterday so we could have the place to ourselves.” Minghao responded, making the details up as he went along.

 

“And what then?” Junhui asked further, and Minghao narrowed his eyes.

 

“Wen Junhui, if you’re using the last conversation we’re ever going to have to initiate phone sex I swear-”

 

“No! It’s nothing like that.” Junhui cut him off hurriedly. “I just want to know what I was missing out on.” He sighed heavily. “I spent so long imagining what it would be like to have you view me as something more than a friend- I want to know what it would really be like.” 

 

“Well,” Minghao considered what to say; mulling his options over in his head before resolving that if this was the last time he would talk to Junhui, he had nothing else to lose and might as well speak the truth completely. “You could have come back to the apartment, and I guess I might have let you kiss me.” There was a long silence, leaving Minghao to sit quietly in the rain. 

 

“So, does this mean that you weren’t just agreeing to date me out of pity?” Eventually, Junhui spoke again.

 

“Yeah, I agreed because I like you. A lot more than I expected to.” Another long silence from Junhui followed Minghao’s words.

 

“At least I can say that I didn’t die single then- that’s something.” Junhui laughed, but it sounded sad and humourless. Another silence. “I’m going to miss you so much.” 

 

“I’m going to miss you too.” It felt unfamiliar to Minghao, to be spilling his emotions out for Junhui to clearly see, but now that he had started, he couldn’t stop himself. “I’d been thinking about agreeing to date you for weeks before I actually did- I just never said anything because I was too caught up in my own pride. I can’t help but think that if I’d agreed earlier-” 

 

“Don’t.” Junhui stopped him from speaking, his voice unstable as if he was crying. “Please don’t blame yourself.” he drew in a shuddering breath. “I think I might have to go soon.”

 

“I don’t want to let go.” Minghao confessed, now desperate, wanting to hold onto Junhui for as long as possible, the conversation they were having causing his emotions to spill over the edge. 

 

“We all have to eventually.” Junhui was definitely crying now, the unsteadiness to his voice betraying it even though Minghao couldn’t see his face. “I need you to be the one to hang up, I don’t think I’ll be able to do it.”

 

“Okay.” Minghao could feel the shakiness in his own voice. “Goodbye, Junhui.”

 

“Goodbye.” There was a sense of finality to Junhui’s words and it scared Minghao more than anything. “I hope that someday we’ll be able to see each other again.” 

 

Minghao closed his eyes, murmured his final goodbyes, and ended the call.

 

 

It was there, sitting on a park bench with rain falling all around him, that Minghao finally allowed himself to cry. 

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be short idk what happened  
> when will i ever be able to write something that stays on topic  
> anyway most of this was written at 1am so please try and forgive any places where my writing and characterisation messed up  
> i have no idea where the soonyoung and jihoon stuff came from but i kind of want to write something based around them too  
> EDIT: I wrote another fic based on the soonyoung and jihoon stuff in this! It's [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12203709) if anyone is interested!
> 
> all feedback is really appreciated!! ヽ(゜∇゜)ノ


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